Everyone goes through difficult times in their life, be it disappointment, failure, broken relationships, loss of loved ones, inability to get married, to find a job… but for me the hardest difficulty was to wake up one day sick and learn that I may never recover again.
Living with an invisible chronic disease is the hardest anyone could imagine. Yet, despite all the pain and disbelief, despite the long and hard therapy, despite the pitying eyes stabbing your soul sharper than a wicked knife, I am grateful for having my family and loved ones around, pushing me to face my insecurities, although a bit too much sometimes, but I understand it’s out of worry for me.
Four years ago, I was diagnosed with IBS (irritable bowel syndrome), I lost a lot of weight, changed many medical prescriptions, changed some eating and exercising habits, went on a low FODMAP diet… until I found the right food, pills, and lifestyle mix. But the one thing that helped the most emotionally was writing.
My first novel, Lou, was written in the intention to ease my pain and occupy my mind on sleepless nights. I never imagined it would one day be read by anyone, let alone be published and sold and read by many all around the globe.
And a few months ago, I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia, a disorder that affects muscles and soft tissues characterized by widespread and chronic muscle pain, tenderness, fatigue and sleep disturbances.
The one thing that helped me most “accept” and start my healing journey was getting a cane. Regardless of what some people would think, and in order to help me stay active, avoid pain and save energy from painful walking, I went ahead and decided to try a mobility aid. And it was the best decision I made during one of my worst flares.
The day I got my cane I no longer needed help to stand up, walk to the bathroom, or even take a stroll outdoors which was recommended by my treating doctor and physical therapist. Don’t hesitate to use mobility aids if you need them!
And same as I’ve done to manage my IBS, I am still looking for that right mix to help me manage my fibromyalgia, and I discovered that writing still helps me heal… my hideout from pain, my soul’s refuge and therapy.
Thus, despite all the fear and aching, writing remains my greatest healer.
And you, what’s your healer?